


A Conversation Between Friends

by theoofoof



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hints of Barson, Rafael/Rita Friendship, The Episode That Shall Not Be Named
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 11:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20114128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: Why didn't Rita represent Rafael in The Undiscovered Country? This ficlet is just one exploration of the reasons for that,





	A Conversation Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a discussion on Twitter about why Rita didn't represent Rafael at his murder trial. I may add a couple of different scenarios to this in the future but will mark it complete for now.

Rita looked out of the floor to ceiling glass windows that framed her office, onto the main floor of Keller, Bernstein, and Calhoun. There seemed to be a lot of slacking going on. _“Well, when the cat’s away…”_ she thought. Having only recently joined the firm as senior partner, their staff didn’t fear her as much as they did Rick Keller and Michelle Bernstein, and they were both out at trial. One to present opening statements, and the other for the delivery of a verdict.

She herself was between cases at the moment. She had a few that were waiting on trial dates but had just won a rather high-profile case involving a rape claim against a football player over in Staten Island. (She didn’t often venture out of Manhattan – not unless it was worth it, which this case had been.) So, after rewarding herself with a long weekend, she was now playing catch up with emails and post-case paperwork. Something that would be going a lot quicker had her mind not been busy worrying about other things.

Turning her attention back to her computer – _these emails won’t reply to themselves_ – she noticed a hush fall over the bullpen. The silence was eerie. The office was always busy; the absence of sound was strange. She turned her head to glance out and see what had caused the apparent shock and awe and saw the cause of her worries strolling through the office.

He kept his eyes fixed on her office as he approached, not making eye contact with anybody. It was hardly surprising; the papers had had a field day with him this morning. Everyone in the office had been talking about it, lowering their voices to hushed tones whenever Rita had approached, knowing that they were friends.

The closer he got to her office, the more she could see the effect that this situation was having on him. His usual swagger was gone, his shoulders were slumped and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked broken. Over the years, she had tried to imagine various scenarios where the great Rafael Barba became a broken man – usually in a drunken stupor after he beat her in court – but in all those times, a murder charge had not even occurred to her. Yet here they were – and seeing him like this was nowhere near as fun in real life as it had been in her vodka-fuelled fantasies.

And here he was, walking into her office at 3pm the day after he’d been charged – and after having ignored her calls and texts all morning. As soon as he entered and looked at her with those deep, green eyes, the reason for his visit hit her with startling clarity.

She held up a hand, not even allowing him to speak. “No.”

His shoulders seemed to slump further for a split second before he steeled himself. “Well, hello to you too.”

There was a spark of the old Rafael and it relieved her no end, not that she would ever tell him that, “The answer’s still no.”

“I haven’t even asked you anything yet.” He tried his best to feign confusion, but she had been reading him for over 20 years. She was an expert. It was how she knew when he got full marks on his LSATs when he refused to admit it for fear of gloating, and how she knew how heartbroken he was when Yelina chose his best friend over him. It was also how she knew that he was completely and utterly in love with Olivia Benson but was too chickenshit to do anything about it.

“Well, when you do, the answer will still be no.” She shook her head as she closed the door and pulled the blinds – she would not allow this conversation to become a public spectacle. “I will not represent you at trial.”

“Y’know Rita, that’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you; your ridiculously high opinion of yourself.”

She turned back to him, her arms folded, and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Are you denying that’s why you’re here?”

There was a pause before his shoulders finally succumbed to the weight that was resting on them. “No. But, before you refuse, hear me out?”

“It won’t change my mind.”

“Let me try, please. For my own sanity, if nothing else.”

Rafael didn’t beg. He sulked – and boy could he sulk – he ranted and raved, or he went back to the books to find a solution. She couldn’t ever remember him begging, which is why she found herself extending an arm and gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“You have two minutes.”

“You are the best lawyer I know Rita, and I’m not just saying that because we’re friends. You know the law inside out – and how to work it to your advantage. Out of all the defense attorneys I’ve faced in court, it’s you that I fear more than any others. You’re the one I know could win against me easily.”

Although touched by his words, she stuck to her guns. “You don’t think our friendship would be a conflict of interest?”

“It never has been before.”

“True, but we’ve been lucky. If the prosecution finds out about that night in Boston, it could monkey wrench your whole case.”

Rafael scoffed. “They’d been pissing in the wind if they tried that. It was almost 25 years ago. And it was one night. One drunken night that has long been forgotten. It’s not like either of us is harbouring any lingering feelings for each other.”

“No, your feelings lie elsewhere.”

He glared at her, but she raised her eyebrows, daring him to challenge her. He didn’t. He just sank back into his chair.

“You made a passioned argument, Rafael. But the answer is still, and always will be, no. It has to be, for the sake of _my_ sanity.”

Rafael’s brow furrowed, but he offered no objection, knowing that she hadn’t finished.

“I could probably sit in court and listen to them call you a murderer. I could probably even withstand listening to Peter Stone tear your character to shreds, and I could probably even win. But you and I both know that when it comes to the law, nothing is certain. And if, for some reason, I lost… if I failed and you went to prison…”

It had happened too many times with other cases, other clients. She’d been sure she was going to win and then the jury had returned a guilty verdict, or the prosecution had unearthed new evidence or sandbagged her in some way, and then ‘poof’ her guilty verdict was gone, and her client was facing incarceration.

“I couldn’t bear that, Rafael… the guilt.”

He swallowed thickly, not used to seeing Rita show emotion like this. Not unless she was extremely drunk. _Like she had been that night in Boston. Like they both had been._ Theirs was a friendship forged during the hardships of Harvard Law and based on mutual respect, challenging each other and banter – a hell of a lot of banter. They didn’t do sentimentality.

But he understood. The ghost of William Lewis still haunted him and there were some nights he couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes he could see Olivia in that monster’s evil clutches, because he had failed, just as Rita feared she would.

He cursed himself for not realising the implications of his request before coming here. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I know, better than most, about the guilt of letting down a friend at trial…”

The sentence hung in the air, but she knew. After all, it had been Rita he’d called when Olivia had been charged with Lewis’ murder, asking her to represent his best friend. Partly out of a need to do something to help, but there were elements of guilt and fear in there too.

“I’d better go. I need to find someone to represent me. It’s not as if the perfect attorney is just going to fall into my lap.”

He shifted in his seat, about to stand when something hit him in the chest. He looked down to see a business card, which had, in fact, landed – face down – in his lap.

He looked at Rita. “Really?” but she gestured for him to look. He picked up the card and turned it over. When he read the name, he looked back to Rita. “Really?” he repeated, but much louder and at a higher pitch.

“I know he can be a bit of a clown, but y’know, clowns are entertaining, and some say that entertaining lawyers-”

“…are more likely to win jury trials. I know, I read the article.” 

“I really do think he’s the right man to win this for you. At least meet with him, see what he has to say?”

Tapping the business card against his fingers, Rafael considered her words for a few moments, before coming to a decision. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but okay, I’ll give his office a call.”

“Good.” She tilted her head. “Everything will be alright, y’know.”

He gave a nod, wishing he had Rita’s confidence. He slipped the card into his inside breast pocket then stood and headed to the door. She followed behind, her hand on his shoulder stopping him before he opened it. “When this is all over, when you’re acquitted, you and I need to have a little chat.”

He craned his neck to face her. “About?”

“About your feelings for Olivia Benson and what you’re going to do about them.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and turned back to the door. Without looking back he opened it and stepped through, waving his hand. “Goodbye, Rita.”


End file.
